The attack on Afacia

Military: Battle

The siege on Afacia City changes to an active attack from the Torketh.

The twenty fifth day of the third month, AW4. Something has changed in the ranks of the Tor’keth this morning. Where once there was a calm sea of men stretched before us, now there is a roiling ocean of activity. Something is going on, and I don’t think that we’re going to like what it is.       It’s mid-afternoon now and the bustle of the Tor’keth camp has bubbled up to the front line, just outside of the range of our catapults. There’s been rumours spreading from the circles in the centre of the city. Apparently the two spirits have begun arguing heavily over something. Nobody can really get a straight answer out of them, but what is known for sure is that something is coming. Something that scares even the circle spirits.       As I write this it is dusk. The fires on the walls have just been lit and the Tor’keth have begun their approach. What is strange is that they follow around 100 paces behind a single person. She is dressed in black, her dress flowing behind her like darkness made into cloth. It’s impossible to tell if she is hooded or it is a set of raven locks that drift down from her head to merge seamlessly with her attire. I’ve just seen her hit by a boulder from one of our catapult and brush the thing aside like an adult swatting aside an angry child. She is at the wall now, arrows clattering off her like she herself is made of the same impenetrable stone of the wall she stands beside. Arkarnes’ beard, she’s broken the wall! Like it was nothing!   The time has come at last to do battle with our foes. If these are my last words, let them be ones of defiance against our enemy and in praise of our god. I shall lay Arkarnes’ mercy upon our foes, until I have no more strength in my arm to do so.